


you don't have to be so cautious

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2018, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13623087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: It is not that Ava was bad at sexting.Actually, if Sara was being honest, Ava was great at it.





	you don't have to be so cautious

It is not that Ava was bad at sexting.

Actually, if Sara was being honest, Ava was great at it. She somehow managed to always craft the perfect messages to have Sara desperately and constantly needing so much more. Ava’s message,  when they come, are enough to get Sara to excuse herself from any Legends meeting or hangout and almost sprint back to her bedroom, or the bathroom or the training room or the nearest supply closet that she could order Gideon to lock, in order to take care of  _ business. _

The issue is that Ava had put sexting on her  _ schedule. _

It had seemed cute at first. Then again, Sara had found most things Ava did to be cute. 

Her nearly always organized office space, the little labels she had on her drawers in her apartment, her color coded folders and files about the Legends - and so her planner had been cute upon first glance.

The idea that Ava was penciling in  _ sexting  _ on the calendar her neatly organized planner had seemed cute. The crude implication sandwiched between  _ meeting with Director Hunter  _ and  _ coffee run with underlings.  _ She'd liked it. Liked the image of it. Of Ava in the middle of work, pulling out her phone to send Sara lewd messages, while locked in her office under the pretense of paperwork.

Sara liked to imagine that Ava usually ended up in the same state that she did. Desperate and panting, three fingers deep inside of herself, eyes barely able to focus on her cell phone screen.

When the actuality was probably a lot less exciting.

Then again, there was something to be said about spontaneity. 

Or about suddenly getting hot and bothered in the shower after a morning workout session and snapping a picture of her naked body fresh from the shower to send to her… girlfriend? Partner? Whatever they were calling this? 

She sends the photo Ava’s way even though the schedule that Sara will never admit to have partially memorized said that the daily sexting break wasn't supposed to come for another three hours. 

By the time she makes it back to her room, still wrapped up in nothing but a towel loosely tied around her body, there's a reply from Ava.

About exactly what Sara expected.

Three words.  _ I’m at work. _

Sara rolls her eyes, even though she knows Ava can't see her. The sentiment is there. And she hopes somewhere across all of time and space that Ava knows she’s rolling her eyes at her.

The phone buzzing in her hand a second later seems to support that idea.

Especially when Ava’s reply simply says:  _ You know I’m at work.  _

Sara does.

How could she not?

But she still frowns down at her phone. 

“Gideon, can you pull up Agent Sharpe’s schedule,” Sara says, because despite having memorized what times belonged to  _ her _ rest the had sort of been unimportant gibberish that she hadn’t bothered with for more than the amount of time it took to have Gideon record it all for later reference.

“Right away, Captain.”

Later, being now.

She stares at the schedule, at the block of text that says Ava is currently in her  _ reorganize office space and reply to emails  _ block, otherwise known as nothing particularly important. 

Sara waves the projection of the schedule away, and moving to settle down on her bed. She lets her towel fall open, angling the camera on her phone once more to take another shot. This one of her whole body laid out ready and wanting. She’s already sliding a hand down her body, tracing the lingering water from the shower off of her skin, as she uses her other hand to send the picture to Ava coupled with four thinking emojis.

Ava’s reply comes an instant later. 

One word, just  _ Sara _ , but Sara can picture the exact tone that she would be using well enough. 

Pretending to be disgruntled, while wanting it so badly.

The exact tone of voice she had used when Sara had used her time courier to show up in Ava’s office last week, with the exact purpose of getting fucked over that big fancy Time Bureau desk of hers.

A fantasy that Sara still had yet to live out.

Because apparently having sex at the office was ‘unprofessional’ and could lead to her ‘losing her job’ which Sara had quickly pointed out in turn that this wouldn’t happen if Ava just accepted her  _ fate  _ and joined the Legends. 

But that wasn’t important at the moment. 

Sara presses down at the picture of Ava’s face on her phone, a photo that she had snapped one night Ava came to visit when the other woman finally let her hair down and pretended to be normal for once, which causes the phone to connect the call.

She sets the phone on speaker phone before setting it on her pillow. 

Listening as it rings, one, twice, then a third time, before Ava inevitably picks up the phone.

The “Sara,” that she answers the phone with is the same tone that Sara had imagined from the text message.

And she lets out a soft noise of satisfaction at the sound of her name. Rubbing at her breast with one hand, while the other slips further down her body, “Hey Aves, I missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago,” Ava points out.

Which, true.

But it also feels like a lifetime ago.

“I miss you,” Sara says, more of a whine this time, “I  _ need   _ you.” 

“I’m working,” Ava says, but her tone has shifted ever so slightly. 

The slightest catch of breath. 

Sara know she’s not entirely unaffected by this.

Good.

Sara could work with that.

“Are you alone,” she asks, knowing that it there was a very slim chance that Ava would have answered the phone if she wasn’t alone, but still waiting for it.

Ava’s little hum of confirmation, before she continues.

“You should come here, we’ll be really quick,” Sara implores, “I’m all wet for you.” 

“I can’t.”

“You could,” Sara insists, “We can time travel, I’ll get you back in that cute little office of yours before anyone even notices.”

Ava hesitates for a moment.

Silence over the line, and Sara thinks for a second she might have gotten her.

Though that hope is crushed a moment later when Ava says, “I get off at five.”

Sara rolls her eyes, even though Ava cannot see her. She’s certain the message carries across the line.

“Well, I’m getting off now,” Sara says, making the innuendo clear in her voice.

She punctuates those words by finally touching herself properly, the part of her body that yearned for Ava, that needs something more than just words. She slips two fingers in herself easily. Knowing that with the phone on speaker there’s no way her sharp intake of breath or the sounds her body makes at the intrusion will be missed. 

She hears the sound of Ava shifting on the other side. 

Imagines her sitting there in her office, holding her phone to her ear, biting down on her lip in an attempt to hold onto herself, face warm and beginning to color, while Sara comes undone on the other side of the line. 

It’s a good image.

“Are you touching yourself,” Ava asks, her voice hushed, as though someone might overhear.

It’s adorable.

Sara makes a noise of confirmation, “Talk to me, Aves.” 

“I don’t-”

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me when you get off,” Sara says, because Ava always needs a place to start, a situation to get the ball rolling, but when she does it’s wonderful, and Sara’s already working her fingers into herself harder imagining it. 

Ava is silent for another moment.

Like she’s thinking.

It draws out the anticipation, and Sara almost opens her mouth to beg for Ava to say  _ something, anything  _ at all. 

Eventually when she does speak, it’s worth the wait, “I don’t know if I should do anything to you at all, little brats don’t get rewarded.”

“Fuck,” Sara hisses out.

Because it’s  _ that tone _ .

The patented Agent Sharpe disappointment tone.

The one that always manages to make Sara’s legs weak. 

“Language,” Ava chides.

And that’s even worse.

She must know that’s even worse.

“Punish me then,” Sara says, holding herself together just barely, “For being such a - ah-” her voice chokes over the words as she pushes her fingers just right into herself, pressing against that part of her that makes her brain short circuit for a moment.

“A Legend,” Ava supplies, the word sounding both like an insult and the greatest compliment. 

“Aves-”

“Agent Sharpe,” she corrects, because that was how they were going to play this.

Sara lets out a groan that’s more pleasure than anything else, “Agent Sharpe, please.”

“I actually wanted to discuss your latest mission with you,” Ava says, business as usual, but Sara knows this isn’t just business. This is Ava playing her like a piano, knowing exactly what keys to hit, exactly where to push and pull and make Sara forget who she is. “All those mistakes you made, escalating the situation, leaving witnesses behind, it’s a wonder we haven’t banished you all to some isolated part of time by now.”

“You’d miss me too much,” Sara says, her voice shaking over the handful of words.

Ava hums, a non committal noise.

A part of her wishes she had had the foresight to grab her dildo before laying down. 

Another part of her knows that moving at this point is impossible. 

She presses her feet flat down on the bed, pushing herself up to give more purchase enough room to work a third finger into herself while her thumb presses up against her clit. 

“Av - Agent Sharpe - I need -”

“What you need is to learn how to do your job,” Ava says, tone still steady, “Though I suppose I could teach you how to do that. Might have to tie you down so you don’t try to escape the lecture.” 

“I would - wouldn’t-” Speaking becomes harder and harder to do.

Sara knows the phone is picking up the sounds she’s making. Harsh pants. Desperate noises. The wet sound of her fingers working in and out herself.

She has no clue how Ava always manages to remain so composed in all of this.

One of the many wonders of Ava Sharpe. 

“Do you still have those handcuffs under your bed? The ones that we-”

“Yes,” Sara says, quickly, desperately, “Yes, please, please.”

There’s something like a half laugh cross the line, but Sara doesn’t dwell on the sound. Can’t dwell on much of anything, not when Ava continues to talk, about the handcuffs and how she was going to keep Sara locked up so that she couldn’t go away or resist, about how Ava was going to take her apart inch by inch until she learned her lesson.

If that was how Ava was going to  _ teach  _ her, Sara couldn’t find it in her to mind.

It’s hard to think. Hard to focus on Ava’s words. 

At some point it turns all into sound, the steady cadence of Ava’s voice, as she brings herself up and over the edge, a broken sound meant to be Ava’s name falling from Sara’s lips as she reaches her peak, falling down over it a moment later. The soft feeling spreads through her, warm and tingling, down to her very core. 

When she comes back to herself, soft gaps, puffs of air falling from her lips, her eyes closed, her bed compelling her to fall into a light slumber - Ava’s voice is the first thing she hears.

Softer now, gentle, “Sara, baby, I have to get back to work now.” 

“Yeah,” Sara says, her throat dry, the words sticking there heavy and trapped, “But you’re still coming by when you get off right?”

She wishes she could see Ava’s face.

See the soft smile that she knows normally accompanies that tone of voice.

And kiss her.

Sara wants to kiss her most of all. 

“I’ll be there.” 

 


End file.
